


In Our Own Way

by DktrAgonizer



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8194624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DktrAgonizer/pseuds/DktrAgonizer
Summary: After Operation Pitfall, Newt is feeling unsure about his Kaiju tattoos. Mako offers him some reassurance.





	

It isn’t strange to see Dr. Geiszler or Dr. Gottlieb spending their days in the lab, even weeks after Operation Pitfall and the successful closure of the Breach. After all, there’s still a lot of work to be done in the aftermath. Jobs don’t stop just because of a cancelled apocalypse and some (well-deserved) parties. What _is_ strange to see is Newt in the lab by himself, head in his hands and very decidedly not working.

Mako peeks her head in sometimes when she passes by the K-Science lab on her way to or from the mess hall. When she does today, it’s the first time she’s seen the biologist looking so still in… She can’t remember when. He’s always been on the move, talking and working nonstop even into the late hours of the night. For all she knows, he could just be taking a break - but he looks much too tense for that. Deciding her lunch can wait, Mako steps inside the lab and knocks lightly on the doorframe as she does.

“Newt?” she asks as he looks up at her, glasses askew on his face. It was hard at first remembering not to call him “Dr. Geiszler” even when he continuously insisted, and sometimes it still feels odd not to at least tack on the “Mr” in front of his name. Hermann prefers the formalities, but she’s growing used to addressing him by first name alone, too. It’s hard to remain so formal with people when you’ve played an active part in saving the world from total annihilation with them.

“Oh. Hey, Mako.” Newt doesn’t move from his spot, but he does straighten his glasses. He sounds tired - like usual - and sort of distant, like his mind is on something else. He holds her gaze for all of a few seconds before his eyes slide past her. Definitely lost in thought.

She wonders if he’s eaten yet, then spots a plate with a half-finished sandwich and a handful of chips by his elbow. That’s something, at least. “How are you feeling?”

He looks back at her for a moment and hunches forward some more in his chair. “Uh. Y’know. Tired, I guess. You think after you'd saved the world, there’d be more partying and less work, but nooo, it’s all work work work.” He runs a hand back through his hair and offers a laugh that sounds more weary than anything. “Not that I _mind_ it, it’s just. Well...” His voice falters.

Mako pulls over another chair and sits down, giving Newt a smile. “There are still plenty of parties. I’ve seen you at them.” That earns her a more genuine laugh. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Newt opens his mouth, but he hesitates before replying. Mako waits patiently while his eyes roam around the room. His leg starts bouncing, and that’s as clear a sign of agitation as anything else. Finally, he spreads his hands wide and looks back at her, brow furrowed. “I just keep thinking about them, you know? Marshal Pentecost, Chuck, and… And everybody we lost during Pitfall. The pilots, the people in the city.” A pause. He rubs at his arms. “And everybody we lost during everything else.”

Mako takes a breath. It still hurts to think of Pentecost, even after coming to terms with his sacrifice. His and Chuck Hansen’s, and all the other Jaeger pilots who put their lives on the line in order to save the world. Still, sometimes she’ll catch herself thinking that he’ll stride into the room, issuing orders to everyone and -

Newt’s still talking, and it jars her out of the thoughts. “These don’t really feel right anymore.” He’s pushed both of his sleeves up, baring the colorful tattoos underneath. “It’s like, it’s like, it’s like… It almost feels wrong to _have_ them.” He lets out a frustrated huff of air. “Like they’re disingenuous or whatever.”

“I like your tattoos.” She can feel the suspicion as much as she can see it written plain on his face. He’s studying her, brow furrowed, trying to determine whether she’s making fun of him or not. Newt’s tattoos have always been a sort of controversial topic around the Shatterdome; they’re beautifully made, no question about that, but to have the things that have caused the deaths of millions adorning one’s skin… Quietly, Mako thinks it’s better than having the Kaiju be sold as toys or clothes on the mass market - or worse, put on children’s shows for _entertainment._ Those particular things have never sat right with her.

Eventually, he smiles and leans back in the chair, satisfied that she’s being honest. “Most people don’t. Or, y’know. They think I’m nuts. Nothing but a - oh, hang on.” He sits up again, a deep frown appearing on his face as he clears his throat. “Nothing but a _Kaiju grrroupie,_ ” he declares in the worst impression of Hermann she’s heard yet. She can’t hold back the laugh, and Newt just smiles widely at her.

There’s a small lapse into silence. It’s not quite uncomfortable, but it is strained. Mako can see Newt trying to think of the words to say, so she settles back and waits. Eventually he speaks again, his voice quiet. “It’s like people think I do it just to immortalize the Kaiju, y’know? ‘Ohhh, there goes Newt again, raving about how much he loves giant, city-destroying monsters’. But that’s not it, not really. It’s… It’s my _life._ ” He traces the outline of Yamarashi with the fingers of his other hand. “It’s just how I remember everything.”

“But now?” she prompts.

Another small silence. “Now it’s like… I was lucky, you know. I never lost anybody to the Kaiju before. Nobody I was really _close_ to, anyway. So having these…”

Mako wheels her chair closer and reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s a good way to remember them.”

“Really?” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. How long has this been eating at him for? Has he even brought this up to anybody before now? 

She gives him a nod. “It's different, sure, but it's you. It shouldn't matter if other people don't like it. We all remember in our own way.”

The smile she gets in return is full of relief. Newt lets out a soft sigh, leaning back in the chair again and folding his arms behind his head. “I've got some space on my back. I thought maybe I could… Get all three of the Kaiju from Pitfall. With the date, probably, or. You know, something.”

“I would like to see it,” Mako says, and she almost surprises herself with the sincerity. Her eyes go to the plate of unfinished food on the desk before she springs to her feet. “Come on,” she says, offering her hand to Newt. “Let's get lunch.”

He doesn't hesitate before accepting. “Thanks, Mako.” They walk out of the lab together, Newt with his sleeves still rolled up, hands gesturing wildly as he tells her about the placement ideas he already has for his newest tattoos.

**Author's Note:**

> Well I joined the PacRim craze super late, but hey. Better late than never? Anyway, I wanted to give writing something a shot. Thanks for reading! Consider leaving a comment letting me know your thoughts; I'd love to read them!


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